Last week I watched Josie and the Pussycats. That’s right, somehow I missed seeing it in the theatres when it came out in 2001.
Actually, I had no real interest in the movie at the time. It looked like another dip into the nostalgia barrel to make another movie from a television show like The Brady Bunch Movie or Bewitched. Actually, this was even a little bit lower than those because Josie and the Pussycats had been a cartoon and the movie was going to be live action; and we all remember how successful The Flintstones movie was.
But my interest was rekindled a few years later when I learned that the singing voice of Josie in the film was actually Kay Hanley, the lead singer of one of my favorite bands, Letters to Cleo. I love her voice, and I knew that if she was connected with the music it couldn’t be all bad, right?
Then I heard that some of the songs were co-written by Adam Duritz, lead singer of another of my favorite bands, Counting Crows. Adam’s lyrics always make me pay attention, and I knew that if he was connected with the music it couldn’t be all bad, right?
I went out in search of the soundtrack. What I had expected was typical, forgettable pop music specifically tailored towards a teenage moviegoing public. It turns out I was half-right: the production of the songs on the album are definitely geared towards the under-20s. But I was wrong about the “forgettable” part.
The Josie and the Pussycats soundtrack is a great example of well-crafted teenybopper music that goes deeper musically and lyrically than you’d normally hear in, say, a song by Avril Levine or The Jonas Brothers.
The movie itself is, sadly, a little forgettable. It’s not a bad movie, but I can think of dozens of titles I’d recommend before this one.
So instead of critiquing the movie, I thought I would share one of my favorite songs from the soundtrack album. And if that inspires you to go grab a copy from the iTunes store, I won’t tell anyone that we’re both in the Josie and the Pussycats fanclub. Deal? Deal.
And now, with lyrics by Adam Duritz and Kay Hanley on vocals, this is Spin Around. Enjoy!
I’ve been thinking recently about words that have stuck around in English, even though their original definitions have either long since passed away, or are at least on their way out.
It seems like most of these words, the ones I’ve taken note of at any rate, are all related to technology in one way or another.
CC: - When we cc: someone in our e-mail, we know that this means that a second person will be “copied,” which is to say they will be sent a copy of the e-mail even though they are not the intended recipient. People a little older than I am, however, will remember a time when “CC” stood for “Carbon Copy,” referring to the actual piece of carbon sheet and second piece of paper that sits below the paper that’s being written or typed on, creating a copy through the pressure of the pen or the typewriter. We still occasionally see this old technology in the form of receipts from certain stores and shops. But I believe that the original reference to the “carbon” part of “cc” on e-mails is past anyone knowing what it refers to anymore.
hang up the phone - When you think about this one, it makes sense. However, I think that the literal meaning of “hanging up” a telephone had given way to the consequence of hanging up a phone, even in the times when we still hung telephone earpieces in their cradle on a wall. That is to say, hanging the phone in its cradle would give you the result that the telephone connection was closed. By the time I was growing up, however, “hanging up” had already moved to meaning “close the telephone connection.” These days, when we hang up our cell phones, there’s no hanging at all–it’s just a simple flip/close. But I can’t imagine “hang up the phone”, as a phrase, is going anywhere anytime soon.
shift key - This one occurred to me today while I was watching a software tutorial, which said that I could access certain functions in the software by using the shift key. It occurred to me that the word “shift” has no direct meaning on the computer keyboard, and hasn’t for all of my life. In the earlier days of typewriters, however, “shift” had a literal meaning. The type on the inside of the typewriter was mounted on long arms, two letter symbols per arm: the same letter, upper and lower case. (two more terms, incidentally, that tie back to the days of typesetting when large and small letters were stored in cases, one above the other) The “Shift” key was used to literally shift the arm to stamp the paper with a capital letter instead of a lower case letter. While I’m on the subject, the days of the typewriter give us another term I can think of off the top of my head: the ‘return’ key, which originally had the function of returning the typewriter’s roller carriage to the beginning of a new line. I confess, however, that I don’t know where the term ‘enter’ comes from.
turnstile - On my recent road trip, I visited several business an subway stations which required me to pass through a turnstile. But unlike the old turnstiles I was familiar with, these new electronic turnstiles had no spinning arms to push through; they were merely metal columns with protruding plastic door that would open or close depending on whether you were granted access. It occurred to me that nothing was visibly “turning,” even though the devices were still called “turnstiles.” I imagine that as time moves forward there will be newer and newer designs for letting people through one at a time, with less and less connection to any mechanical turning involved. This is an example of an object which is slowly in the process of losing its ties to the original and literal use of its name.
I’m sure there’s a word for this phenomenon in linguistics. If anyone knows what it is, please feel free to write in and tell me.
If you have other suggestions for words experiencing this same kind of definition death/reincarnation, let me know and I’ll be happy to collect them for a future post on the topic.
You know what’s a hassle? I’ll tell you what’s a hassle. Recycling.
Recycling is a hassle. So is eating right, and saving energy, and exercising, and voting, and contributing to your local economy.
When it comes to being concerned about the earth, or concerned about our personal health, I think that most of us have this idea of the life that we should be living versus the life we’re living right now. We get stuck in these patterns of thinking “I don’t have time to change my lifestyle right now. I will. Someday.”
“Making a change” sounds like an overwhelming proposition. As if we’re being asked to make an overnight change from city-dwelling, polluting, wasteful, fast-food patronizing car drivers to commune-living, composting, grow-your-own-organic-vegetables, granola-eating, tree-hugging hippies.
It’s a lot of pressure. I know I’ve felt it. And I’ve felt the guilt of not living a more eco-friendly life. Then something small but important happened.
When checking my mail one day, I received a coupon for a local hardware store selling energy efficient lightbulbs for .99 cents–a fraction of their normal cost. Now, I’d seen these lightbulbs before–they’re the one that have a kind of spirally corkscrew structure to them. I knew that it was somehow “better” to use these than the normal lightbulbs, but I never really looked into it because, after all, I already had lightbulbs in all of my lamps. Why buy new ones?
But this coupon intrigued me. For under $10, I could now replace every bulb in my house with an energy efficient bulb. So I made my way to the hardware store one weekend morning, and by noon I had made the switch. And you know what? I felt really good about it! I mean, I knew I wasn’t making a gigantic change in the natural history of the planet, but I knew that using these bulbs was better than using the other bulbs. That was enough to give me a small smile of accomplishment.
And that’s really all it takes, folks: one small thing. Doing one small thing at a time, making one little change at a time, is what can help you change your life and feel better about yourself. Even if it’s once a year that you make a small change, eventually you’ll find yourself on the path you always knew you wanted to be on but you didn’t know how to get there.
My friend, Stef, pointed me towards a website called The Story of Stuff. Watch the 20 minute introduction animation to get a sense of how our culture’s lifestyle affects the world we live in. Some of it will sound like the same old message we’ve been getting from any number of sources for years. But what I like about this website is that it is very straightforward and makes a lot of difficult concepts easy to understand for the normal person like me.
One of the most staggering statistics, one that Stef was particularly excited about sharing, is that most of the products we purchase end up not being used within 6 months of when we bought them. In fact, only 1% of the things we buy are still in use a half a year later. Think about that the next time you look around your home at all of the things you own. I know I do now.
At the end of the animation is a section called “Another Way” with suggestions for how to reorganize your lifestyle with more eco-conscious decisions. Have a look at the list and ask yourself if you could think about trying just one of the suggestions, even if it’s in a small part of your life.
Another really good site with similar types of suggestions is 50 Ways To Help.
I encourage you to make that one little step: do one tiny thing, and see how it feels. I can almost guarantee that it won’t affect your life every much once you’ve got the momentum going–if it even takes momentum at all. I mean, I’ve got my lightbulbs installed, and now I don’t even have to think about them! Done!
But after you do that one small thing, I promise it will be that much easier to do a second small thing. And then a third and a fourth, and on and on.
And here’s the thing: I’m not a particularly green-oriented person. I’m pretty lazy. I’m not an activist, and I don’t contribute to any earth-saving campaigns. Pretty much like most of you, I’m betting. So if someone like me can start making little changes in their life, I’ll bet that you can too. One small step at a time.
At the risk of overloading you with links, I also want to include two more articles from a blog I’m sure I’ll talk more about in the future, Get Rich Slowly. In these two articles, the author really gets to some issues that touch home for me, and maybe they will for you, too.
Instead of me leading in with a huge introduction, I’ll let the title of these two posts speak for themselves and try to entice you into reading the rest of the articles. Enjoy!
I found these two while on a road trip this last summer. I know that I already have a Stop War in my collection, but these two seem to go a step further, each in their own way:
This second one took me a moment to actually see how the word “WAR” was created, and I’m intrigued by people using other parts of the stop sign to get their message across. By the way, notice the “Muscleman Crossing” sign behind the stop sign? This is directly across from the original Gold’s Gym in Los Angeles–stop by to see it if you’re in town!
To see all of the posts in this collection, just click on the link for the Stop Me category
If you see any stop signs like these in your travels, feel free to take a picture and send them to eric@sabudesign.com. I’ll happily include them in a post here. If possible, make the pictures as large as possible (I’ll take responsibility for setting the right size and framing), and let me know the city and street crossing you took the picture at.
I recently met a woman named Mara through a completely accidental e-mail address mix-up. I’m happy I did, though, because she pointed me towards a whole different take towards stop signs. Mara is a graphic designer, and I know that many of the animators reading this blog also work in the advertising industry. Some of this video may hit a little too uncomfortably close to home. Enjoy!
To see all of the posts in this collection, just click on the link for the Stop Me category
If you see any stop signs like these in your travels, feel free to take a picture and send them to eric@sabudesign.com. I’ll happily include them in a post here. If possible, make the pictures as large as possible (I’ll take responsibility for setting the right size and framing), and let me know the city and street crossing you took the picture at.
You may have noticed that the past few Fridays have been quiet here at the Midnight Diaries. That’s largely because I’ve just returned from a five-week road trip around the country. Some of you have been following my exploits over at The Road Trip of Catty Wampus. For those who haven’t–and who could blame you, really, it’s a lot of reading!–I thought I’d recap some of my favorite moments here as a way of putting a cap on the entire adventure.
I took a microphone along with me on my travels, intending to interview many people along the way. I’ll also be including some of my favorite interview clips here. I hope you find it all entertaining, and perhaps it will even inspire you when you’re thinking about your next travel destination.
So, without further delay, I bring you The Highlights of the Road Trip of Catty Wampus (of Portland, OR).
DAY 1
Tuesday, July 15 2008
Portland, OR to Garberville, CA
Just south of Gold Beach, Oregon I met Eric. Eric was hitchhiking down the US101, and I decided that it would be nice to have some company along the way for a bit. He was a scrawny young man of 26, with dark red hair and a backpack full off whatever items he had found along his travels–a flag for a high school football team, a plastic yellow flute, etc.
Eric is a recovering drug addict, and working very hard at separating himself from the people he has been surrounded by; the people who are drug addicts as well, and make it very difficult to leave that lifestyle behind. I really applaud his determinism to get rid of his addiction and start on a new and productive way of life. He certainly seems smart and driven enough to find his way once he decides what he’d like to do with himself. He’s taking his time this summer, hitchhiking and biking and riding up and down the coast to find what his passions are.
Although it is something he is trying to leave behind, Eric has no trouble talking about his past drug use. With mystical hand gestures and eyes bugging out, staring off into infinity, he told me the story of an acid trip he and a friend took last year up on a hill in the Haight area of San Francisco. I’ve never been on an acid trip and it was fascinating to hear Eric tell his story. He has a calmness and a cadence to his speech that completely pulls me into his world. The full story is 20 minutes long, and I plan to edit it into a more cohesive piece later on. For now, enjoy this little snippet, which is one of my favorite parts of his trip:
duration - 2:10
I dropped Eric off in Eureka, California, where he told me he knew of a good spot he used to sleep when he lived in the area. I thanked him for the interview, he thanked me for the ride, and I went off in search of my own place to fall asleep before the next day’s drive.
DAY 6
Sunday, July 20 2008
Los Angeles, CA
Sunday, July 20 2008
Los Angeles, CA
If I had a nickel for everyone who said to me “While you’re in LA, you have to interview people on Venice Beach! There’s some real characters there!”… I’d have, like, at least three or four nickels. So on Sunday morning I headed down to Venice Beach. Down at the far end of the boardwalk, I met a tribe of post-hippies hanging out on blankets under an umbrella in a parking lot. The space belonged to a a lanky and grizzled man named Dreamcatcher. He had dirty blond hair (maybe dirty dirty blond?) hanging down in dreadlocks against his weather-worn face, and a half mustache/goatee thing (you know, the kind that doesn’t really connect at the sides? it’s like the mustache doesn’t talk to the goatee, and the goatee doesn’t talk to the mustache? they each just do their own thing). Dreamcatcher shared the space with Rebecca, who he referred to as “my first black lover.”
The moment I sat down with Dreamcatcher, I was caught in a bit of an awkward situation. We were approached by a large Mexican man, pointing and threatening “You stay away from me, Dreamcatcher! Don’t cross me, Dreamcatcher. It will be your downfall.” Dreamcatcher looked pretty confused about this, and after a few times insisting that he didn’t know what the man was so upset about, the Mexican said “You put too many fuckin’ people in jail, bro!” Apparently, the man believed that Dreamcatcher had been ratting out many of the Venice Beach regulars to the police. After the Mexican man left, Dreamcatcher was indignant:
duration - 0:36
I didn’t quite understand the bit about how Dreamcatcher smokes marijuana but doesn’t smoke pot. If any tokers out there care to enlighten me, I’m all ears. (do they still say ‘toker’ these days?)
We were soon joined by Jules (”Jules of the Nile,” she explained), a mousey woman with salt and pepper hair cut into a bob, sunken eyes and sunken cheeks. I was intrigued by her story because the common perception is that homelessness is something that happens to you, either because you have made poor decisions, or bad luck has looked down unfavorably on you. Jules found this lifestyle in another way:
duration - 1:00
The most interesting thing in all of this, aside from her gigantic decision to give up her entire former life, is how she says “I used to be a real person.” I’m not going to analyze that too much for you–but just let it sink in under that context.
I asked Jules what it was about Venice Beach that spoke to her the first time she saw it. This is what she said, along with a little history of the area:
duration - 1:45
A few minutes later I was introduced to the concept of Spiritual Tourette’s Syndrome, or STS. It’s an idea Rebecca had with a friend in Boston years ago. Jules and Dreamcatcher helped to explain. (note “the beeping” that Rebecca mentions refers to a car horn that honked a moment earlier)
duration - 0:51
Dreamcatcher often speaks in riddles and puns. This was his reaction to something as mundane as me talking about the weather, when I said I liked the atmosphere:
duration - 0:27
All in all, I really felt a lot of my own preconceptions and inhibitions being challenged while I sat with these folks. As straight-edge as I am, I bolted from the room the last time someone offered me a hit off of a marijuana pipe. So it was a big deal for me to even be able to hang in there while Dreamcatcher and Jules rolled and smoked a joint. Dreamcatcher even offered me a hit, and I didn’t feel any of the kind of judgement that I would have expected coming from him when I refused. I know I’m a square, and it was nice to have the feeling among these folks that it was okay.
A lot of this is all wrapped up in my own insecurities about who I am, and who I would like to be. I think about these things a lot, and when I come face to face with such a different way of living than I’m used to it can really send me off into a heap of questioning myself.
On the walk back to Erik and Lauren’s, I saw one of Venice Beach’s vendors with a sign that read:
If you worry, you die.
If you don’t worry, you die.
So why worry?
It seemed to speak directly to what had been filling my mind at that moment. Maybe there’s something to this Spiritual Tourettes after all.
DAY 11
Friday, July 25 2008
Denver, CO to Wichita, KS
While I was driving through Kansas, the sky turned completely gloomy and I saw a gigantic bolt of lightning reach from the sky to the ground out on the horizon! It was probably the brightest and thickest lightning I’d ever seen. It was one of those things that makes you say “If that was in a movie, I’d say it was a poorly done special effect and not very realistic.” Just goes to show you what we’ve come to expect from our world based on movies and television, and how it can still surprise us so very easily.
I grabbed my video camera and hoped there might be some more demonstrations of this amazing phenomenon. Here’s a little of what I caught in a four-minute period: (don’t worry, I’ve edited it so you don’t have to sit through the non-lightning parts)
Believe it or not, these were the babies that came before the real storm began, reaching down in fingers of lightning for the next forty-five minutes! I would have caught it all on the video, except that I’m pretty sure I would have crashed the car if I’d tried to hold the camera in one hand and steer with the other too much longer.
DAY 16
Wednesday, July 30 2008
Dallas, TX to Austin, TX
In the late afternoon I arrived at my friend Rick’s house in Austin. I got to speak to Rick’s 4 year old son Adam. Adam was told me about some of the geography he had learned about in school, but I think he was a little confused:
duration - 1:29
I love how quickly Rick and I were able to turn him around. Very suggestible, that one.
Rick told me that he and Adam play fight sometimes:
duration - 0:44
In case you didn’t quite catch who Adam likes to be when he’s fighting his dad, here’s a little clue:
duration - 0:15
Yup, that’s right. But even though Adam loves Spiderman, don’t pigeonhole him. He likes lots of things. Take a listen to this meandering ramble of a list:
duration - 1:39
Gosh, I love talking to kids. Is there anything more entertaining that that?
Note: gigantic post today–hang in there!
DAY 18
Friday, August 1 2008
Baton Rouge, LA
I stopped into a grocery store to get a little snack, but by the time I was ready to go the weather had changed from sunny to absolutely pouring. I’m talking about rain that comes down in sheets–sheets, blankets, pillowcases, and duvets! I have rarely seen rain like this. I believe it must have been the beginning part of the storm and hurricane that hit the area after I left, but at the time it just seemed like “Holy Cow, this is a lot of rain!” Many people were standing in the entrance to the grocery store, too timid to even run to their cars for fear of getting drenched. I stepped outside under an awning, and figured this would be as good a time as any to try to talk to people. I saw an older gentleman with big, muscular arms (one of them in a cast and sling), and asked if he would be interested in speaking. I’m so glad he was–I am super happy to have captured an extra-rich Louisiana accent.
While we were standing under the awning, Phil started to tell me a little bit about his background hanging out with hippies in the late ’60s, as well as a little bit about his brother. You may want to turn down your audio around the one minute mark of this audio clip: there are two loud thundercracks that nearly made my heart drop into my shoes. I could adjust the volume here on my end, but I feel like it’s really important to give you a taste of the untreated audio, so you can experience a little bit of this surprising thunder yourself. Just like that Kansas lightning, this was a kind of thunder I have never heard before:
P.S. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
duration - 1:26
Seriously, that second thunderclap literally knocked me off-balance, and I had to catch myself. So, um…. yeah. We stepped inside. Normally it’s mundane to simply talk about the weather, but I was in absolute awe. I asked Phil if this kind of weather was normal:
P.S. You can return your speakers and headphones to normal volume now.
duration - 0:43
Again, I love that accent! I also got a little bit of local jargon thrown in there, too. Here’s a little more weather talk:
duration - 0:55
I wanted to get back to Phil’s history from when he was hanging out with the hippies. I’m intrigued by the idea of what I think hippies were like based on what I’ve seen in tv shows and movies made decades later, and what it was actually like to be there. So I figured Phil would be an ideal person to ask:
duration - 0:44
Ahh, that accent! I love it! I love how I couldn’t even tell he was saying “drinking parties” until he repeated it two or three times! I also like how he doesn’t know if he would have been classified as a hippie or not, because it just goes to show the blurriness of a culture. According to Phil, a lot of what distinguished hippies from non-hippies was whether or not you had a job. You couldn’t be a hippie and have a job because the hippie lifestyle had a very loose attachment to time and responsibility; and you couldn’t have a job and be a hippie because having a job required you to fit into a specific mold and reliably perform your duties. Phil floated in and out of the hippie and job cultures, but it sounded to me like he had a higher percentage of his footing in keeping down a job and earning money for himself than in drinking and partying.
At one point, Phil and I were talking about food. He doesn’t really fancy himself as much of a cook, but he enjoys cooking for himself and his wife. He was telling me about the different dishes he makes, but I had to stop him when he mentioned something I’d never heard of before. This is Phil explaining to be what a roux is:
duration - 0:47
The topic turned from food to politics, and from politics to religion. Now, politics and religion are two things I have avoided speaking to people about because I pretty much assumed that my beliefs wouldn’t be the same as the people I’d meet–especially in the south. And you know what? I was right. But I also assumed that those differences, if they were out in the open, would lead to argument and bitterness. And that’s where I was completely wrong. I guess I’m just so used to being surrounded by people who, for the most part, believe the same things I do, and it’s so easy for us to caricature everyone else into a picture small-minded bigotry. Phil and I disagreed on a number of issues, but we simply included those issues into our conversations without either of us trying to convince the other to see things our way. Very different from what I would have expected, and I feel sheepish to even admit that that is what I would have expected.
Here is Phil talking about his Presbyterian beliefs, and explaining how they differ from Catholic beliefs:
duration - 1:38
Near the end of our conversation, Phil told me how the Lord saved him in 1975. I’ll let Phil take it out from here and finish this section of the interviews with his transformation:
duration - 2:05
DAY 30
Wednesday, August 13 2008
Indianapolis, IN
Today I went to the Children’s Museum of Indianapolis. It is known as one of the most exciting Children’s Museums in the country, with wonderful hands-on exhibits and plenty of fun ways to learn about trains, Egyptian mummies, space, and dinosaurs.
Upstairs at the museum is an area called Story Avenue, a collection of life-size scenes (a bank, a barber shop, a dining room, the back of a car, etc.), where you can hear recorded stories from the experiences of Indianapolis’s African American community. This is where I met Portia Scholar Jackson, who helped create the Story Avenue exhibit. Portia is a professional storyteller, as well as a teacher of storytelling to all ages. I’ve recently become fascinated with the idea of storytelling technique (and I regularly listen to stories from The Moth), and I was fortunate enough to hear some of Portia’s stories of her Aunt Janice–you can tell that although these stories have a strong foundation in memory and fact, they have been crafted to enhance their ability to keep the listener entertained. The story begins when Portia’s supervisor at the museum asked a series of questions, designed to figure out what the Story Avenue exhibit should include:
duration - 2:53
See what I mean? I mean, clearly Portia is already starting off as a memorable personality and just hearing her tell a story would almost certainly be engaging in and of itself. But when she adds on top of that her craft and skill, well, I could have sat there listening to her all day.
DAY 32
Friday, August 15 2008
St. Louis, MO
I had a long walk and quite an adventure through St. Louis. My first big stop was the St. Louis Arch. Here are some photos I took of the monument:
And here’s one of the Arch’s reflection in one of St. Louis’s other buildings:
I happen to think those are some pretty cool pictures. But before I pat myself on the back too much, I have to say that one of the genius parts of the Arch’s design is that it is nearly impossible to take a bad photograph of it! Pretty impressive.
Now, I’m afraid of heights. But it seemed like it would be a shame to be so close to the Arch and not go up to the top. So I entered the underground ramp (after more security than I’ve even ever been through at an airport, by the way!), and found my way to the tram lines that run up either side of the arch. I shared an elevator with a family of four who were making a pilgrimage from Florida to Minnesota. And when I say “elevator,” I really mean something that’s a lot more like a space-pod, with room enough for five people to sit and stare at each other as the space-pod is brought up the Arch’s slope to the top. (a bank of eight pods run up and down on either side of the Arch)
At the top of the Arch are some thin, rectangular windows to peer out of. But even though the view from many of the windows was pretty cool, the most memorable thing I saw at the top of the Arch was an Amish family who was taking the tour as well! I was flabbergasted. I mean, I don’t know much about the Amish, but it seemed completely counter-intuitive to find them at the top of the St. Louis Arch. I decided that as much as I would have regretted not going to the top of the Arch, I would regret ten times as much if I didn’t try to get an interview with at least one of the family members once we were back on the ground. Thankfully, I was able to talk to Samuel Borntrager. Samuel told me that it’s not so uncommon for the Amish to make it outside of their community:
duration - 0:31
Do you hear the way he says “Souzwest Missouri”? I don’t think that this is a speech impediment, I believe it is the way that the community pronounces their ‘th’ sounds. Unfortunately I didn’t get to speak to anyone else in order to confirm this, but I am pretty certain that many Amish have different speech patterns than Standard English.
I asked Samuel about the differences between how people like me are taught to think of the Amish, and what the Amish are actually like. For example, how it’s jarring to see them out in the city. I am certain that I was absolutely insulting in the way I presented my question, but Samuel was kind and patient in explaining:
duration - 0:48
This got us onto the topic of religion which, if you’ve been following this blog, you’ll notice has been a pretty common theme among many people I’ve spoken to. But I will not go much into Samuel’s and my discussion because, frankly, it was a little heartbreaking for me to reveal to him that I don’t believe in Jesus. I could see such compassion and pity and concern for me, and by extension for America (and he said as much), it’s a little difficult to reflect on still.
So I’ll give one more clip from the man, if only to demonstrate what I think is another fascinating linguistic artifact. This is from when he and I were discussing certain theosophical doubts:
duration - 0:29
This is something I’d read about in other dialects of English, but I’ve never heard first hand. “It’s always been a world.” “It’s always been a blue sky.” He’s using the pronoun it’s where the Standard English uses there’s. When you think about it, there really isn’t any real meaning specific to there that requires us to use it in constructions like this. I love thinking about how language develops in different places to find that one word instead of another has made its way as the pronoun in these kinds of phrases. Forgive me for getting all language-geeky on you.
My final stop in St. Louis was the City Museum. I had been told by some friends that I absolutely needed to check it out, but they didn’t really tell me what to expect. I suppose I thought it would be a museum about St. Louis with some great exhibits, kind of like the ones at the Indianapolis Children’s Museum. And I was dead wrong. In fact, “museum” doesn’t really seem to be the right word at all.
The City Museum used to be a shoe factory (in fact they take pride in the fact that Tennessee Williams worked in the factory, and even paid homage to the factory in The Glass Menagerie), but has long since been closed down. So the gigantic building was left abandoned until an urban revitilization project came along and decided to turn it into what I can only refer to as nothing less than the best treehouse ever!!!
Re-using all kinds of industrial beams, scaffolding, scrap, and other metal, the City Museum provides kids (and some adults, if you’re small and nimble enough) with twisty-windy ways to crawl through, slide through, run through, explore, and discover. And kids love it! This is just a small sample of the things I heard kids shouting throughout the museum:
“Follow me!”
“Where are you”
“Where does that lead?”
“We’re lost. Have you seen the Dragon’s head?”
I think it’s nearly impossible to get an idea for what the City Museum is like–how vast it is, how much fun it is–unless you actually see it. Nonetheless, I’ve tried to capture some video of a small fraction of the City Museum’s wonders. Tell me, if you were still 7 years old, wouldn’t this be the coolest place to be?
Those are the parts of my trip that I’ve been sharing with all of my friends. Again, you’re welcome to delve into more of my travels at The Road Trip of Catty Wampus.
And I wouldn’t be surprised to find that there were some new interview clips popping up here at the ol’ Midnight Diaries from time to time, now that I’ve got a feel for pointing the mic at someone and trying to get good stories from them. Stay tuned, folks, I’m not going anywhere!
The spam just keeps on a-comin’, and the spam poets are still finding new ways of using language and structure to get us interested in their products.
Seriously, if anyone reading this blog knows anyone who writes spam, I would love to start a correspondence and maybe even interview them. These things are clearly not computer-generated–at least many of them are not. So I figure there may be some copywriter somewhere who dreamed of writing jewelry ads, or car commercials, but was forced to take any job that came along while breaking into the business. I am dying to learn their story.
In the meantime, with thanks to my friend Randy Wakerlin for contributing some text from his own spam folder this time around, please enjoy the current crop:
Subject: haste yourself
1. Find a girl
2. Invite her to your appartments
3. Use subject product V (or C)
4. Have fun
5. Take her number
6. Profit?
Setting aside the idea that you may actually invite this lucky girl to any of your several “appartments,” I like that Step #6 isn’t a complete guarantee. Also, Step #3 is referring to (I’m guessing) Viagra or Cialis; but using those initials really calls to mind much more vulgar words, don’t they? Well, the C anyway.
Next!
Subject: hi long island
Like that drink?
Does not matter!
Our patented patch will help you
to grow a whole MOUNTAIN in your pants!
That’s right, folks. A mountain! In your pants!!
Thanks again, Randy, for the contribution. See you all next time with more Spam Poetry!
(For more creative literature from the junk mail filter, check out the whole Spam Poetry catregory)
I think this is a message about over-developing an urban area. But the lack of an “s” on the end of “condominium” adds a bit of charm, and also a question about what the sticker was originally intended for.
In addition to that, you can just about make out a “the” underneath the left side of the sticker, and there’s not even enough left of the second word to speculate what the original graphitist had written.
To see all of the posts in this collection, just click on the link for the Stop Me category
If you see any stop signs like these in your travels, feel free to take a picture and send them to eric@sabudesign.com. I’ll happily include them in a post here. If possible, make the pictures as large as possible (I’ll take responsibility for setting the right size and framing), and let me know the city and street crossing you took the picture at.
This one was a tough call. I haven’t been taking pictures by any of the stop signs (and there are many) that have been tagged with graffiti names. I haven’t seen this one around, though. In addition, even though some of the letters bear a little resemblance to some tags I’ve seen, most tags aren’t this legible.
So it leaves me wondering: who are the Outlaws?
To see all of the posts in this collection, just click on the link for the Stop Me category
If you see any stop signs like these in your travels, feel free to take a picture and send them to eric@sabudesign.com. I’ll happily include them in a post here. If possible, make the pictures as large as possible (I’ll take responsibility for setting the right size and framing), and let me know the city and street crossing you took the picture at.
